Forever Is Deceiving
by krazyhippo66
Summary: Somehow Jane and Maura always ended up this way. Captured. In danger. Came with the territory...Now all they have to do is fight to stay alive. Not established Rizzles, but it...gets there. Kind of. CHARACTER DEATH AND SADNESS


**Well...another product of the Buffy challenge. Prompt was to make her cry, via character death. hope it worked. you've been warned.**

Everything was wrong. Confusing. Loud. Frantic yelling echoed in her head…

"For once in your life, could you please _shut up_," Jane snapped.

The two sat back to back, their hands tied together behind them, their legs curled to the side, tied as well.

"Why? So we can sit here and do _nothing_ like you and your manly pride are telling you to? No way, Jane Rizzoli—"

"You really think I'd just sit here, Maura?! Really?" she yelled, pulling at the restrains. "Do you really think so little of me that I wouldn't do everything I possibly could to save you?!"

Her angry words echoed into eerie silence as Maura failed to respond.

"Stop it," Maura finally whispered.

She sounded broken. Jane wished she could see her face.

"I don't want us to fight. Not at the end."

"Jesus, Maura!" Jane breathed. "I'm gonna get you out, okay? Talk to me. Tell me what we know."

"Nothing, Jane! Nothing! We don't know who took us, we don't know where we are! How in the hell are we supposed to get out?!"

"We don't know _nothing_. What cases were we working on?"

"The one with the murdered wife and missing kid…and the suspicious death of the man in his thirties."

"What was the deal with him? We just got him yesterday…"

"I had only just started his autopsy, Jane. I hardly think it's enough to make an accurate conclusion—"

"_Please_, Maura," Jane asked calmly, trying frantically to keep the frustration from her voice.

Maura let out a sigh behind her.

"If I _had_ to make a conclusion, I'd say it _appeared_ to be…self-inflicted."

"Great. So we can rule that out."

"Did you have any suspects for the other one?"

She felt Jane deflate.

"No. Nothing viable."

"How is this helping?"

"If we know who did it, we might know where we are."

"I'd feel better if we were free," she mumbled quietly.

"Then don't move," Jane hissed, shifting slightly. "I don't wanna hurt you."

Maura gasped as cold metal pressed to her wrist.

"How long have you had a knife?!" she protested.

"How long have we been here?" Jane quipped.

Maura gave an exasperated groan.

"You're lucky I'm tied up."

"Would you stop bickering?! Please?"

Maura looked down at the ground.

"Sorry."

After a few painful minutes of sawing, their hand broke from the rope, both letting out gasps of relief. They made quick work of the leg bindings and stood, pulling each other into a tight embrace.

When they broke apart, both seemed to be fighting back tears, and Jane was the first to look away, walking toward the door.

"Now what, Jane? We're stuck. There are no windows—"

But she was cut off as Jane kicked roughly at the door, rattling the hinges. A few swear words followed, as the detective's dress had ripped.

"Damn them," she yelled. "Why'd they have to settle the bet today?" she glowered.

Today was the day BPD had decided to cash in their winnings in a longstanding bet. They had bet Jane couldn't call Maura 'Dr. Isles' for a month, and they won easily. The deal was Jane wore dresses and Maura wore pants for a week. It didn't deter Jane, though, as she kicked again, harder, the door snapping from the frame.

"Better?" she asked with a grin, Maura rolling her eyes as they stuck their heads into the dark hallway.

No matter what the situation, Jane always seemed to put her at ease. They waited, making sure no one was around before entering the hall, both light on their feet as they walked. Jane took her time, stopping every once and a while to check doors. They all opened except for one, which Jane took the liberty to force open. Lo and behold, her stolen gun and badge were there, but no mystery husband yet. She went to strap the gun to her, grimacing at the feel of soft, flowy fabric. Instead of dwelling, she opted to hold the gun, ushering Maura back into the winding hall.

They seemed to be finding their way, but they came to a door that Jane most certainly couldn't break down. It was a giant steel door with a basic padlock.

"Pick that lock."

"I don't know how!"

"I do," Jane assured.

"So why can't you?" Maura snapped, then regretted.

Her hands. Her broken hands. Maura reached over and took Jane's free hand in her own, rubbing the scar softly.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, lifting the hand to her lips, kissing them lightly.

Jane gave her a small smile.

"It's alright," she laughed. "Stress does things to you."

She pulled a few pins from her hair and handed them to Maura, trying for what seemed like forever to guide her to open the lock. But as the minutes passed, Maura's hands just shook more, until she gave up, starting to cry as she slumped to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Jane. God, I'm sorry. I…I can't."

"Shh," Jane soothed, immediately beside Maura, holding her close. "I'll give it a try, okay?"

She gently took the pins, placing her gun in Maura's quivering hands.

"Just hold that, okay?"

"Ww-what if he comes? What if he thinks I'm…I'm gonna shoot him?"

Jane sighed, smiling sadly.

"C'mon, stand up."

She hoisted the honey-blonde to her feet, rubbing her arms soothingly.

"Wouldn't you? Shoot him, I mean?"

"Probably…but who's to say he's not faster? I…I don't wanna risk it, Jane."

Jane looked at her, conflict in her eyes. Finally, she took the gun, reached around Maura and lightly pushed it into the back of her pants.

"There. Now if you face down the hallway, he won't see. If he comes," she coaxed, pulling Maura into one last hug before turning to the lock, forcing her imperfect fingers to work.

Maura's attention was on the labyrinth of halls, her ears waiting for a sound. And then she heard one. Taking a step away from Jane, she tried to listen closer, to see if the noise would happen again.

"Stay close!" Jane ordered, but Maura was too intent, all her energy focused on hearing that one sound…There. It was the clink of metal scraping on concrete. Metal hinges from a broken door.

"He's coming, Jane…Quick!"

Jane's heart immediately took off, her fingers suddenly more nimble as footsteps echoed closer. She heard a faint click and turned around.

"Maura!" Jane hissed, realizing just how far away she was after it was too late.

She went to reach for Maura just as the husband rounded the corner, gun in hand, pointing it shakily in their direction. Jane saw the terror in his eyes, the emotional instability, and was quick to put up her hands, even before he asked.

"Jane?!" Maura asked, her voice high in fright as she couldn't see the detective.

"I'm right here, Maur," Jane assured in a low tone. "Just put your hands up slowly."

Maura complied, her gesture making him jump. Jane took a step closer, but he yelled out, his aim focusing on Maura.

"Wait!" Jane yelled, panic in her voice. "Don't do that. Don't hurt her."

"You guys should've just stayed put!"

"So you wouldn't have hurt us?" Maura asked warily.

Jane grimaced, unsure how he would react.

"You…you know too much," he said quietly.

"A-about your wife, you mean," Jane said quietly, trying to hide the quiver.

"Jane," Maura hissed.

"Don't turn around," Jane whispered, and Maura stopped herself from doing exactly that.

She hated that Jane was behind her.

"Look," Jane said carefully, keeping her hands extended in front of her. "She's got nothing to do with it, alright? She doesn't know anything."

"She got her body. Of course she knows."

"We had other cases. I was the only one who did any digging."

His grip tightened on the gun.

"You guys are friends. You had to have told her something."

Jane shook her head gently, her hands lowering slightly.

"I talk with people about cases to form theories. She doesn't guess," she paused, gauging his reaction. "You know that. Why would I talk to her, then?"

His conviction was wavering, the gun starting to shake once again. Jane took another step closer to Maura, her eyes flicking, for less than a second, to the gun, before darting back to him.

"Don't come closer."

"I'm unarmed," she assured, raising her hands up higher and turning slowly to show she had nowhere to hide it. "You took my gun, remember. I can't do anything."

She took another step.

"I said stop!"

"C'mon, man, let her go. Let her take your daughter back. You can keep me, okay? Only I know what happened."

Maura tensed at the lie, wanting so desperately to tell him. But Jane would never forgive her.

"Don't do this," Jane coaxed, watching the gun fall a little more in his grasp. "Your little girl deserves some semblance of a life, doesn't she? She doesn't know. She doesn't have to."

Her feet moved her closer, and this time he failed to notice.

"She's so young, man. She won't remember. If you just let Maura take her…"

The next step she took scratched on the concrete, and he jumped again. It was then or never, so Jane grabbed the gun from Maura's jeans and fired.

Time slowed as Maura watched. She watched the man fall, bullet right through his chest. He collapsed, already dead as he hit the ground, his gun clattering to the floor, smoking.

Smoking?

She whipped around, just in time to see Jane's knees give out, to see her body falling. And then she saw it. The worst part. A red spot on Jane's torso, small, insignificant, until it grew at an alarming rate as blood pooled from the bullet hole, soaking Jane's shirt.

Maura heard herself scream Jane's name, but she was no longer in control of what she did. Before she knew it she was down on the ground, kneeling at Jane's side.

"Let me see it, sweetie," she soothed, her hands gently reaching over to pull Jane's hands from the wound.

Jane shook her head.

"I don't want a prognosis, Dr. Death," she murmured, flinching as blood seeped from between her fingers, flowing onto Maura's.

"Jane, please. Maybe I can help. Maybe I can—"

"What did I say about talking too much?"

Maura laughed through her tears, in a broken sort of sob.

"I believe you said 'don't'," she murmured, taking in a deep, shaky breath.

"Maura…I…I need you to go," Jane choked out, squeezing Maura's hand with the last of her strength.

"No," Maura whimpered, brushing hair from Jane's face. "I won't leave you," she whispered through her tears.

Jane swallowed, searching for Maura, fighting the blackness that threatened to encase her. She found those teary hazel eyes, though, and it gave her a new wave of strength. She smiled weakly at the terrified M.E.

"It's alright, Maura. It's gonna be alright."

Maura tried to smile back, but the effort failed, more tears spilling over as she weakly shook her head.

"No it's not," she whispered, her lip quivering. "It's not okay. You promised me you'd never lie."

"_You'll _be alright," Jane whispered, trying to calm her heart rate.

The slower her pulse, the longer she had.

"I won't. I…I want you to stay with me."

"I know. I know, sweetie." She took another breath, pressing harder against the wound. "Tell Ma I love her. Tell her I'm sorry if she ever thought otherwise."

A sob racked Maura's body as she shook her head again.

"Don't you dare give up on me," she cried. "I need you."

"Tell Frankie he's gonna make a great detective, as long as he cuts back on all Ma's cooking. And…and tell Tommy I never gave up on him."

"Stop it, Jane! Stop it!" Maura nearly shrieked, her voice cracking as she pulled Jane closer to her.

"Tell Korsak to swallow his pride and talk to his ex-wife. The…most recent one, and tell Frost it was great working with him. Tell him he's got heart."

Jane was fighting her own tears at this point, delirium setting in. Maura could see her consciousness is fading, her coherence minimal behind her chocolate eyes.

"And…and tell Maura I'm sorry. Tell her I'm sorry I was a coward. That I'm sorry we never had the chance. God…I…I really wanted that chance. I coulda…I could've loved her with all my heart. Coulda been loved…"

"_I love you, Jane Rizzoli. I always have. Always will," _Maura assured. "I promise. Now _please_, stay with me."

"Tell her how wonderful she is. How funny and sweet. How incredibly innocent atop all her…beauty. You don't have to tell her she's smart: I'm pretty sure she's got that down…Just…let her know people like her. Love her."

"I'm right here," Maura breathed.

"Go get help," Jane said in a strained whisper.

"No—"

"Go," she said firmly, coughing as she struggled to get oxygen to her lungs.

"Jane…" she pleaded, defeat in her tone.

There was a long silence. A painfully long silence as Maura waited, unsure if Jane was still alive.

"Maura…?" she finally asked, tentative, as if the brunette couldn't believe Maura's presence.

"Yes, Jane. Never left."

Jane's eyes focused on the ceiling, unable to answer. She just squeezed Maura's hand. They both knew it was too late, but Jane didn't want Maura to see her die. Maura sniffled, desperately wiping at her tears as she leaned down, pressing her lips to Jane's. The love she felt in return was enough to send more tears to her eyes. Her hands cupped Jane's face gently, kissing Jane again, relishing in the softness, the sweet taste that was uniquely Jane's. Their lips lingered together, as Maura fought to follow Jane's wish. To leave.

"I love you," Jane finally whispered into Maura's lips, her tears finally escaping.

Maura kissed them away, sitting up before her own tears could fall.

"Goodbye, Jane," she murmured, leaning in for one more kiss before ripping herself away, standing and running.

Jane felt more warmth gush between her fingers as she let her head fall back to the cement floor, her eyes fluttering closed. She tasted metal, as she tried to take in another breath, but it didn't matter.

Maura was safe.

The heart monitor flat-lined in the now deafeningly silent ambulance. Maura felt numb as she watched the EMT's look helplessly at each other, staring down at Boston's hero. Boston's martyr. She held Jane's lifeless hand just the same, crying in silent disbelief. She half expected Jane's hand to squeeze back, her heart going heavy at the daunting realization. It'd never happen again. No more teasing, no more jokes. No more reassuring touches. No more goofy grins, no more low laughter. Everything she'd lived for the past year and a half, wiped away.

"I love you, Jane Rizzoli. I always have. Always will," she repeated, something she'd said frantically as the EMT's had tried to restart her heart.

Jane Rizzoli, DOA at the hospital. Never survived the BPD hostage situation. Never survived the shot she'd taken herself.


End file.
